The Gearlock

by Talshain

Prologue- The Train Station

The train rattled along the tracks at a brisk pace, the steam from its engine wafting above and behind it as it cut across the land, occasionally disappearing into a tunnel as it passed through a mountain. The smoke from the smokestack puffed out like dragon breath, occasionally wafting into an open window some careless pony had left open. It had been traveling for miles and miles, all the way from Stalliongrad, down through Fillydelphia, around the Canterlotian Mountains, and finally making its way towards the end of the line.

By the time the train rolled up to its last stop, the sun had just finished setting, and the moon was now peeking out from the east. The stars began to glimmer as the train’s engineer slammed on the brakes, bringing the powerful locomotive to a halt at its last stop: a small, sleepy little village named Ponyville.

“Alright, end of the line!” one of the conductors shouted, letting off a few blasts from his whistle to rouse those who had fallen asleep. Grumblings rose from the seats as several ponies were jolted awake, but the conductor paid no heed. “Everyone off!” he cried, before letting loose another shrill blast of the whistle.

Slowly, the exhausted travelers stumbled their way off the train and onto the platform. Some, like a certain wall-eyed pegasus, were returning home from their trips and knew exactly where to go. Others, like a rather confused and nervous looking cellist, hesitated on the platform, looking back and forth as if wondering which way to turn.

As the patrons shuffled off, several cleaning ponies came aboard, burlap sacks and cleaning supplies clutched in their mouths and magical fields, with a determined but resigned look in their eyes. With industrious precision they began to clean the train: sweeping up discarded items of trash, scrubbing out the stains left behind by the on-board meals, and tossing any left-behind luggage into a small cart in the middle of the aisle, where it would soon be sorted and hopefully returned to their rightful owners.

Outside the hustle and bustle of the interior of the train, a single white pegasus stallion strolled along the platform. However, a passive observer could be forgiven in thinking that he was an earth pony, as his movers uniform almost completely covered up his tiny little wings, which, even though being roughly the size of one of his eyeballs, somehow still allowed him to fly!

It gave him the curious appearance of some strange overgrown insect. However, Bulk Biceps never seemed to mind.

The conductor looked up as he approached, greeting him with a cheery smile. “Bulk! You’re right on time!” he called out. Bulk Biceps nodded, his chest puffed out in pride. Swift and punctual: that was the only way he would allow himself to live!

The conductor paused to pull out his reading monocle, before procuring a checklist (seemingly from thin air) and examining it closely. “We have a large shipment all the way from Fillydelphia to unload,” he said, adjusting his monocle as his eyes scanned up and down the page. “Some pony by the name of ‘Rarity’ ordered 200 rhinestones and 10 cases of silk and fabrics. Celestia knows what she’ll make with that. Let’s see, what else… there’s some mail here. Oh, and that new wagon Sweet Apple Acres ordered is here too!”

The conductor put the checklist away and looked up at Bulk. “Think you can handle all of that?” he asked.

Bulk Biceps smirked, before flexing his forelegs, causing his biceps to swell to sizes exceeding the width of the conductor’s head. “YEEEEAAAAAHHHH!!” he yelled, his red eyes almost popping out of his face for a moment.

The conductor winced, before taking a step back and rubbing his ringing ears. “Alright,” he said, giving the stallion one last considering look. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

And with that, the conductor walked off, his head now occupied by thoughts of the nice comfortable hotel bed awaiting him in town. Bulk Biceps watched him go, a satisfied smile on his face, before he turned back to the cargo cart with a determined expression on his face.

Time to do what he did best.

Stepping into the cart, he grabbed the nearest box to him and hoisted it above his head, his muscles flexing impressively underneath his wiry white fur. Without even breaking a sweat, he carried the heavy crate back out onto the platform, where he set it down carefully and gently in a way that no other ordinary pony would have been able to do.

Without pause, Bulk turned around and stepped back into the cart, a satisfied smile on his face and a happy tune on his lips as he got down to work. He loved the feeling of a heavy weight in his hooves: after all, it was his special talent. It gave him immense pleasure to lift things that no one else could and, in his own humble opinion, he imagined that with every weight he lifted he was actually taking it off of some other unfortunate pony’s shoulders.

And that filled his heart with pride!

In a matter of minutes, eight of the ten crates belonging to Rarity were stacked up neatly on the platform, ready for transport to Carousel Boutique. The stallion took a moment to rest, using his hoof to wipe a few beads of sweat off of his brow. He noticed with passing interest that the cleaning ponies were just finishing up, and watched as they started to leave the train and make their way back to their homes.

After a few minutes of rest, he stood up and turned around, ready to get back to work. Stepping back into the cargo cart, his eyes zeroed in on the massive pile of crates containing the Apple’s new wagon. Stepping over, he reached his hooves around the nearest crate, and with a mighty heave he lifted it onto his back and began to carry it out of the cart.

He stopped in his tracks as a *CRUNCH* from beneath his hoof echoed through the compartment. Looking down, Bulk blinked in surprise as he spied a piece of broken wood. His eyes narrowed, and with care he set his crate down before bending over to inspect it.

The wood had obviously been part of a crate, but judging by the charred and blackened, it had been blasted apart by some sort of spell. Taking a moment to look around, Bulk saw that the rest of the pieces were scattered across the cart, along with its contents: more of Rarity’s fabrics, now tattered and ruined strips of cloth that were almost indistinguishable from the dirty floor.

Bulk scratched his head with his hoof, rapidly growing confused. Why would somepony blow up a crate with magic? That didn't seem to be the proper way to unload cargo.

Now, it must be noted that Bulk Biceps was not the smartest pony in Ponyville, but even he knew when something was amiss. Standing up, he strode over to the door of the carriage and nudged it open, noting the scorch marks upon the heavy iron surface.

Clearly, there had been some sort of scuffle.

But what…?

He froze when he heard a shuffling noise from behind him. Spinning around, he glanced from side to side, his senses now all on high alert. His ears had never lied to him, and he was certain they weren’t now.

Something was in here with him.

Taking slow steps, Bulk made his way into the middle of the train cart, his ears flicking back and forth in all direction in search of the noise. He froze when he reached the center, his entire body taught as his muscles flexed.

*scritch-thump*

Bulk whirled around from the direction of the noise, his eyes trained upon a pile of crates in the rear of the car where the noise had come from. Taking slow and even steps, the stallion approached gingerly, eyeing the crates warily in case some nightmare beast should leap out and maul him.

He paused before them, his ears again ramrod straight and listening intently. The seconds ticked by, and nothing leaped out to attack him. No shadow leaked from under the crate, nothing shook them from within.

Just nothing.

Then, after almost a full twenty seconds of silence, Bulk Biceps heard it: a tiny whimper, coming from behind the crates!

Moving gingerly, the stallion creeped to the side and knelt down, his eyes narrowing upon a tiny bundle stashed behind the crates. It was from this that the whimpering was emanating from. After a moment’s hesitation (in which time the bundle whimpered again) Bulk tentatively reached out with his hooves and grabbed ahold of it firmly.

He almost let out a (very masculine) shriek when it wiggled, but managed to keep his calm and pull it towards himself.

Cradling it in his hooves, Bulk slowly stood up, curiosity stirring within him. His red eyes narrowed as he stared down at the bundle. Slowly, the moonlight fell upon the bundle, finally revealing its contents to the pegasus.

Bulk's eyes widened in shock.

Resting in his hooves, sleeping peacefully, was a tiny foal. From looks of it, it couldn't be more than a few months old, and from the twitching appendages tickling his hooves, it was most likely a pegasus like him. Light orange fur covered the entirety of its little body, and he could see a small tuft of amethyst mane poking out from atop of its head.

Delicate lashes rested at the tip of its eyelids, indicating that the foal was a filly. Bulk noted with concern, however, that the fur beneath her eyes was matted down and raw, clear signs of copious amounts of tears being shed.

He frowned. The poor thing must have cried itself into exhaustion.

Bulk flinched as the filly stirred, her tiny body curling slightly into the warmth his body was providing. Slowly, the filly’s eyelids rose, revealing a pair of gorgeous amethyst colored eyes, which glistened in the moonlight like twin gems. The foal blinked rapidly for a moment, before fixing her confused gaze upon the larger pegasus. She stared up at him, her eyes filled with wonder as she traced the outline of his alien features. Bulk stared back, unsure as to what he was supposed to do.

Eventually, the filly let out a happy squeak, her mouth lifting itself into a gleeful smile, before she leaned forward and buried her head into his immense chest, purring softly at the warmth his powerful body provided.

Bulk could only stare down at her in shock. There was a filly cuddling him. There was a filly. Cuddling. Him!

What did he do? What could he do?

All thoughts of unloading the crates fled from his mind as he carefully (oh so carefully) stood up, making sure to keep the filly pressed tightly into his chest. Stepping over to the entrance of the cart, he looked out at the empty platform, a look of bewildered confusion written across his face.

A quick glance from left to right was all it took to confirm that, yes indeed, he was all by his lonesome. Not a pony in sight, not even the night guard (although, the latter’s absence wasn’t altogether surprising; Comfy Feathers was prone to excessive napping).

The stallion let out a startled gasp as the filly squirmed around in his hooves, the slippery foal almost managing to wriggle out of his grasp completely. Gently, Bulk Biceps shifted her in his hooves, positioning her just like he had seen Applejack do with her baby sister.

There. That seemed to calm her down. The filly burbled happily as she curled into his hold, the warmth from his chest enveloping her in a familiar manner. Bulk gulped, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. Seriously: what should he do.

There wasn’t really a lost and found for these kinds of things. After all, the filly had been abandoned in the cargo hold. Clearly whoever stashed her there didn’t want her to be found.

Thoughts of taking her in briefly flashed through his mind, before he immediately dispelled them with an irritated snort. Not a chance.

For one, he was barely getting enough money as it is. Despite being the only work-pony in town (excepting Big Macintosh, but he didn’t really count because he rarely ever left Sweet Apple Acres) he never had what you could call a steady income. Ponyville was a tiny hamlet at the base of a mountain: not much in the way of expansion or construction. Mostly just repairs and the occasional remodeling.

And even when he did have jobs, they didn’t pay nearly as much as he’d like for them to.

And secondly: Tender Breeze, his fiancé, was already pregnant. There was no room for another hungry mouth. Not with a foal of his own on the way.

He let out a heavy sigh as he turned his gaze back to the filly, his breath ruffling her silky purple mane. No, he couldn’t take her in, but he couldn’t just leave her at the train station! And it's not like he could simply dump her off on somepony’s doorstep either.

Unless….

He frowned, his eyes darting towards the direction of the town square. He glanced down at the filly in his arms one last time before letting out a sigh of resignation.

Yes. That would have to be it.

With slow but sure steps, Bulk Biceps walked away from the platform, heading back into town. His hoofsteps echoed off the sides of the buildings, the streets silent an empty. After all, there were few who would dare to venture outside at this hour. Ponyville was rather superstitious like that.

And so he strode through the town, the little filly clasped tightly in his arm, with no one but the mare in the moon to keep the two of them company. The stars shown down from on high, their soft and soothing twinkling helping to keep the filly asleep. Soon, Bulk was passing through the administrative section of Ponyville, his path taking him by the Town Hall, and the decorative statue of Faust, the stone alicorn’s eyes seeming to follow him as he walked by.

Slowly but surely, however, the stallion neared his destination: a tall wooden structure with thatched roof and a bright blue door illuminated by the porch lamp.

The steps were bathed in the soft candlelight, allowing the pegasus to ascend without too much difficulty. Stopping at the doorstep, Bulk leaned down and gently deposited his precious bundle onto the welcome mat. The little filly stirred in her sleep, her ears twitching in displeasure as the soothing warmth of the stallion’s bulk left her.

Bulk stared down at her, a curious pounding sensation coursing through his body and originating from his heart. Gently, he reached out a hoof and caressed the foal, tracing the side of her fuzzy little cheek, and causing her to giggle slightly in her sleep.

‘It’s strange,’ he thought. ‘How quickly I can become attached…’

Bulk tore his eyes away from the sleeping filly, his vision blurring slightly as a small layer of moisture clung to the surface of his cornea. He’d better do it now, or he wouldn’t have the strength left to do it at all!

Raising his hoof again, he stamped on the door three times, his powerful hoof-falls sending echoes throughout the building. The sound caused the filly to stir, and her eyelids slowly lifted to once again reveal amethyst colored orbs.

Bulk whirled around and began to walk away, his throat clenching up as he heard the filly’s first hesitant sobs. When he was ten feet away, he heard her let out a wail.

He froze, his hooves locking up involuntarily as his heart pounded against his chest. A flicker of a notion passed through his head: he didn’t have to do this. All he would have to do is turn around…

NO!

He stamped his hoof on the ground, his eyelids slamming shut as tears began to fall down his face.

‘I can’t. And you know why you can’t. So stop it, and just go home!’

He glanced over his shoulder one more time, his red eyes alighting on the small bundle, before they were distracted by a light appearing in the upstairs window.

He turned back around. “Just go home….”

---

The door opened slowly to reveal a wizened old mare carrying a lantern. She blinked her eyes owlishly, squinting out into the darkened street in search for whoever knocked on the door. Her ears flicked forward, however, when they caught the sound of quiet sobbing. Turning her attention downwards, her brown eyes widened as they landed on the form of a small sobbing filly.

“Oh my goodness!” she gasped, bending down to scoop the tiny foal into her arms. The filly let out another sob, burying her face into the old mare’s fur as the elder looked back and forth curiously. “Now where did you come from dearie?” she asked quietly after spying nothing.

Glancing down, she smiled as her eyes meta pair of beautiful amethyst orbs. “Now, now, don’t you worry about a thing little filly,” she said, turning around to step back into the building. “We’ll get you cleaned up soon enough!”

The door swung shut behind her, bringing an end to this night’s affairs.

Outside the porch, all was calm. All was quiet.

As the hours passed, the moon slowly began to dip down towards the horizon, while the first rays of the morning sun began to peek out. One of them cast light upon the front of the building, revealing a bright blue sign that read ‘Helping Hooves’ Home for Disadvantaged Foals’.

And that, my friends, is where our story officially begins!

~*THE GEARLOCK*~

Author's Note:

Alright! That's the prologue finally up and out of the way! First story on this site, so please go easy on me. I'm looking for a beta if anyone would be interested; this is going to be a long story (possibly with sequels) and I'd really like to have some company!

Anyway, take care, and please leave a comment if you liked this!